No, it's nothing to do with the Pope or his red shoes that cost $600 a pair (which he of course gets for free, because if you are a hand-crafter of fine red Italian leather shoes, what better public relations could you ask for?)
But, hey, is that why those pre-Pope guys are called "cardinals" - because they always wear red?
ANYway -- Last night as I was laying on the couch, listening to my husband and child sleeping in adjacent rooms, I was also praying. It was one a.m., and I was feeling despondant over the situation and wishing for all the uncertainty to end (and end well) so I can have my husband back again. Praying, and thinking, and praying some more, because it feels artificial to say my prayers as if I were in church and audible. When out of the pitch-darkness of the front yard, I suddenly heard quite plainly the song of the male Northern Cardinal. Not the two or three long descending notes that often come first, but the repeated staccato notes that come at the end. Clear and lovely. Just the one time.
And I wondered if it could be a message of some kind -- that it is spring, that there is hope, even at unlikely times when all seems dark.
The spouse says the bird was dreaming (a wonderful prospect in itself). I thought perhaps it could have heard a distant sound like that of a competing male, which woke it from its slumber briefly. Who knows? I took it as a good sign, and I'll hang onto that a while. Tomorrow (today) is another day.
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